Please
by nooneknowsmyname
Summary: A six-letter word that has so many meanings.  Faberry one-shot.


_A/N #1: Okay, this is a little something that popped in my head. Soon enough my fingers got to typing and the rest you know. So, if you feel so moved, press the little Review button on the bottom. If not, so be it… Enjoy._

_A/N #2: I do not own these characters. Sadly, all I own are mistakes._

_**Please. **_**A six-letter word. A six-letter word that has the ability to alter its meaning with only the slightest change in inflection.**__

**It can be a demand, a request, if you will. **

"Girls, I was just off the stor—Oh, god!" Judy's hand instinctively flew to her eyes, desperate to cover the scene she could most definitely not un-see and one that immediately made her want to start drinking again.

"Mom! Don't you knock? Ohmygod…" Quinn scrambled off of her bed in attempt to gather the strewn clothing from the floor at the foot of the bed.

"O-Okay, wow, I mean, Quinn, we should talk about…" Judy, not attempting to uncover her eyes anytime soon, was floundering and trying to remain calm as though she didn't walk into her daughter's room to see her youngest half naked with a similarly clothed, or rather unclothed, Rachel Berry, complete with her daughter's bra hanging from the bed post.

"Not now, Mother! Can we not talk about this right now?"

"Yes, you… I suppose you're right." The older Fabray regained what little composure she could muster and presented a confident, even front. "But, Quinn, I want you to know that I'm okay with who you are and when I return, I would like for you to properly introduce me to your… girlfriend."

"Ohmygod, Mom. Alright, alright, but can you maybe close the door now?" Quinn was mortified to say the least, but a part of her was relieved to know that her mom wasn't going to set the timer on the microwave.

She was brought back to the situation by her bedroom door closing and her mom's voice trailing down the hallway, "And Quinnie, when I do get back, _please_ be fully clothed," falling back into mother mode, Judy added for good measure, "both of you."

**It can be playful and knowing. **

"Um, Dad, Daddy, I think… I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm gay and I'm in love… with her."

Rachel looked to the girl seated beside her, finding everything she wanted in her future. The girl blinked back at her with a blank expression on her face. It was the first time she'd heard those words from Rachel, and it seemed oddly perfect that this was the moment she opted to share them.

"Really? Y-You're in love with me?"

The prettiest Berry dropped her eyes to her nervous hands. After a brief moment she gained the courage to look up and respond, hoping that her confession wouldn't vanquish the near perfect bubble they had been living in these past several months.

Before she could answer though, her clone of a father cried out excitedly, "Quinn, _please_! She was totally smitten with you after your third date! You were all she could talk about for at least—"

"Daddy! That is completely untrue, and I am appalled that you would interrupt my response before it even began! Furthermore, it is impolite to answer a question that was not directed to you…"

Quinn wanted to point out that while Rachel had a point about answering the question, she failed to recognize that if she hadn't started talking, technically she hadn't been interrupted. But, something about the situation told her that now was not the time if she wanted to truly know how the gorgeous singer felt about her. Hiram stopped talking abruptly, but nothing could wipe the pure mirth from his face. Clearly he knew his daughter and the scene to him was better than his midday soaps.

"…and for the record, I loved her after date number two."

**It can mock the recipient.**

"You expect me believe that you're in love with me? How can I be sure of that when the 'Mighty Quinn Fabray' couldn't possibly be seen walking down the hallway holding my hand? I love you, but I refuse to hide what I feel for you."

"Rachel, you know I love you more than anything, but—"

"Really, Quinn, really? _Please_. If you love me more than anything, shouldn't that include your popularity?"

"I…" Quinn trailed off, knowing her girlfriend was right. Both of their families knew; Kurt and Blaine knew; even Santana and Brittany knew; and Finn, well he had his suspicions. They had been together for six months, and it was time the rest of McKinley knew. At that moment, the blonde tore out of the girls' restroom and sliced her way through the populated hallway, grabbing Rachel by the shoulder to spin her around. When they stood facing each other, both became very aware that a crowd looked on cautiously at their interaction.

Before she could lose her resolve, Quinn blurted, "I love you…"

The hallway that was once buzzing with chatter became silent as its habitants tried to make sense of what they heard.

A lone, clumsy voice from the background called out, "What? _Please_, Quinn, as if you've ever loved anyone but yourself! Rachel, she's just using you…"

Finn continued his rant about Quinn being evil and how he was sure she just wanted to ruin Rachel in some way, but neither girl strayed from the fixation they had on the eyes in front of them. Something shifted between them; and while Finn still raved in the otherwise silent hallway, Quinn glanced around meeting the eyes of their audience, returned home to Rachel's, then interjected among Finn's rambling, "…more than anything."

And with that, the 'Mighty Quinn Fabray' kissed Rachel Berry in the packed hallway between third and fourth hour.

**It can be lustful**,** desperate and wanting.**

"Are you sure, Quinn?" Rachel delicately traced her fingertips across her girlfriend's smooth thigh.

Until now, Rachel had always been on the receiving end of their intimacies. It was absolutely not for lack of trying on Rachel's part, but Quinn was guarded. She liked the control of taking care of Rachel. She would allow for some small-scale touching and some partial skin-to-skin contact, but when put in a position of receiving any type of release, the blonde clammed up and always refused. She was terrified of being with someone again, putting that much faith and trust in someone. She'd given herself once and in the end, a larger part was taken from her.

At this moment, however, Quinn had never been surer about anything. Her girlfriend of eight months had spent the last hour working her over—warm, open-mouth kisses over her neck and shoulders; tanned skin pressed heatedly against her own; gentle nips and bites scraping against her flat abdomen; fingernails lightly scratching along her sides; and a leg subtly rocking snugly between her own.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I love you, baby." Rachel looked to her lover in hopes to meet her eyes. She found the hazel irises hidden beneath clenched lids. "Look at me." The blonde failed to oblige. "Quinn, look at me."

The hazel eyes were a shadow of the color with which they once captivated, the blackness of Quinn's pupils overtaking the orbs. It was lust and Rachel knew it. Both girls realized the significance of what their very near future would mean for their relationship and it created an electricity in the air between them.

Spurred on by lust and love, Rachel spoke again before continuing her quest. "You can trust me. I promise I won't hurt you."

Never breaking eye contact, Quinn breathed out in a shaky voice, "_Please_, Rachel."

And as Rachel took her over and beyond anything she ever thought she could feel, Quinn couldn't help wondering if her last words that night were asking Rachel to keep going or asking her to not hurt her.

**It can mean to make a person happy. **

"Quinn! I got in! I got in! I'm going to Julliard! Oh my Barbra, there's so much to do. What do I pack? When do I need to be there?"

Quinn's adorably excited girlfriend bounced around the kitchen of the Fabray house. She had shown up on her doorstep, unopened letter in hand, looking like a deer in the headlights. After a quick shot of soy milk to calm the nerves, they had opened the letter together leading to the current jubilee Quinn was witnessing.

"Rach!" Quinn tried to calm the bubbling beauty with no success. Little did Rachel know, Quinn had been holding on to some rather good news herself.

"Agh! A class schedule! Look at the class schedule, Quinn! It says 'Julliard' on the top!"

Rachel's eyes were wide with wonderment as the Quinn tried again to get her mesmerized girlfriend to stop for just a short moment. "Rachel!"

"What?"

Quinn chuckled at the goofy expression on the brunette's face. Then started again, "I'm so excited for you, Rach! You're amazing, and of course you got in seeing as they would have been crazy not to take you. I love you so much, and I can't wait to walk you to your first class!"

With that, the shorter girl threw herself at the blond and kissed her deeply, snaking her arms tightly around the taller girl's waist.

"I love you," she mumbled through kisses, "so much… and I can't wait… Wait." Rachel stopped kissing her girlfriend, pulling back with a most perplexed look on her face. "What did you say about walking me to class? How is that—"

Quinn silenced the singer with a soft touch to her flushed and swollen lips.

"I hope it will _please _you to know that you are currently hugging one of New York University's newest accepted applicants to the graduating class of 2016."

Rachel stared at her with disbelief. She and Quinn were going to New York… together. Without saying another word, Rachel leaned forward and kissed the blonde deeply, pouring every emotion she possessed into the love of her life.

After an undetermined amount of time, they pulled away reluctantly and Rachel whispered, "Quinn, I am very _pleased_ to hear that, and I think the only thing that would _please_ me more is if you take me upstairs and make love to me."

**It can seek compassion. **

Quinn sat on the kitchen floor of their two-bedroom apartment holding a weeping Rachel firmly against her heart. The phone was still hanging off of the hook, blaring a rhythmic beeping indicating the other line was disconnected. Ten minutes ago, Rachel received the call that she failed to earn a call back for her eighth straight audition. Needless to say, she was discouraged and losing confidence.

"I just don't know what to do, Quinn," Rachel gasped between sobs. "I rehearsed more for this audition than any of the others, and I put out my best."

"Baby, shhh. It takes time to break into this business. You said it yourself. Plus, you still have two years of school left. There's no telling what opportunities will come along."

"I know, but, you don't understand. I did my best, Quinn. My absolute very best."

"You always do and you're amazing."

"But… what if… what if my best isn't good enough?" Rachel's voice cracked under the pressure of her insecurity and doubt. It caused a similar fracture in the blonde's heart.

"Hey—"

Quinn was cut off by the brokenness in her girlfriend's voice and the sadness in her eyes. "_Please_… _please_ tell me my best is going to be good enough."

"You're best will always be good enough, Rachel, no matter what happens."

Rachel found comfort in her lover's arms that night as she tried desperately to hold onto the confidence and determination she once had.

**Sadly, it can break your heart. **

Rachel slinked her hand out of Quinn's as they headed into theater's lobby. In Rachel's last year of school, she received the call back that she had wanted since she was a little girl. It was a new production that was getting rave reviews and the investor was holding a swanky gala for cast members, theater executives, and of course, paparazzi, in hopes to celebrate their achievements.

Glancing down at her now empty hand, Quinn looked to Rachel to clear her confusion. They always held hands. The taller of the two wondered why hers was now cold. Her answer came to her as she realized that Rachel was introducing her to a reporter as her "friend."

"…, Quinn."

"How do you know each other, Ms. Berry?" the handsome, salt-and-peppered hair gentleman asked.

"Oh, well, we've been… friends since high school. She attends NYU and will be an amazing journalist such as yourself some day."

Quinn recognized the tone in Rachel's voice. She was flirting with the man; and she introduced them as 'friends' from high school. The taller girl couldn't believe it. Rachel was ashamed of her. That's why she didn't hold her hand as they entered the lobby. Angered and hurt, Quinn hooked her fingers at Rachel's elbow and interrupted the conversation.

"I'm sorry, mister...?"

"Arnold. Jonathan Arnold."

"Mr. Arnold, would you kindly excuse us for a moment?"

"Of course. Enjoy your evening, ladies." The man walked away as Quinn shot daggers at his back, then turned to face her girlfriend—or at least the woman she thought was her girlfriend.

"Quinn," Rachel hissed, "what was that about? I have to mingle with these people. It's important for my career and our future!"

Ignoring the statement, Quinn asked, "Why did you drop my hand?"

"What? What are you talking about, Quinn—"

"My hand, Rachel. You were holding it and then you slid out of it as we walked in tonight." Quinn's voice was tense and accusatory. She held her firm gaze on Rachel, watching for any indication that her theory was correct.

"Oh, baby, you're being ridiculous. I simply—"

The blonde interrupted again, more irritated at the thought of her feelings being sloughed off. "No. You were scared of holding my hand. That's also why you introduced your girlfriend of five years as your 'friend' from high school."

Rachel winced at how Quinn said the word, "friend," knowing what her girlfriend was saying happened to be completely true. The truth was she was scared. The Broadway scene wasn't easy to break into and it turned on its family easily. The public was fickle and Rachel didn't want to chance her stardom on a public romantic relationship just yet.

"Quinn, you know I love you more than anything. _Please_, don't do this now. _Please_, can we just keep 'us' quiet, at least for a little while until I become a more permanent fixture?"

Quinn's heart shattered into a million pieces, and her mind wandered back to the hallway at McKinley High. She wondered if Rachel's heart felt anything like what hers felt like—jagged and raw. The roles were reversed this time, but the same words resurfaced.

She chuckled dryly at the irony before she locked eyes with her heartbreaker and threw Rachel's words from four years ago back at her.

"I seem to recall a gorgeous, fearless girl once saying, '"You expect me believe that you're in love with me? How can I be sure of that when the 'Mighty Rachel Berry' couldn't possibly be seen walking into a party holding my hand? I love you, but I refuse to hide what I feel for you… If you love me more than anything, shouldn't that include your popularity'?"

Rachel watched as Quinn wiped several rogue tears from her stunning face, turned on heel, and walked away from her. She watched the woman she loved exit the theater just as she had left that restroom. The only difference is that here she still stood when in fact, Quinn had run after her. She stayed there in the middle of an event that was truly a Rachel Berry's fantasy come true, surrounded by everything she ever dreamed of—Broadway and champagne and swag and glamour, and yet, suddenly it wasn't anything she wanted.

**And only in some rare cases, can it also mend it.**

Quinn hadn't been at their apartment when Rachel came home that night. Some of her clothes were missing from the closet in her room and a hastily scribbled note was left on the kitchen counter. The ink was smeared where it was clear that tears had fallen to the paper.

_Rachel – You didn't come after me. I came after you. Clearly, 'anything' doesn't mean 'everything.' I'm staying with a friend for a while. I refuse to give you an ultimatum because based on your actions tonight, I'm afraid of the choice you would make. Hope your evening was everything you ever dreamed of… – Q _

Rachel turned the paper over having noticed pencil scratchings on the back. What she found there made her choice easy. Sketched flawlessly in graphite was a likeness of her from earlier at the salon, where they readied themselves for their big Broadway event. Rachel followed the lines of her face drawn in sweeping strokes. The contours of her face were perfect, her brows were knit and her eyes focused on the content of the magazine she was reading, her bottom lip was rolled, held between her teeth and the forward tilt of her head cast delicate shadows on her features. She looked beautiful.

The drawing was beautiful, and she, Rachel Berry, was an idiot. This woman on paper was the woman that Quinn saw, the woman that the gorgeous blonde loved, and frankly, Rachel didn't recognize her. She felt sick to her stomach. This couldn't be the same woman that not three hours earlier, stood like a moron rather than going after the one thing she saw as her future when she came out to her dads, and at that point, she'd made up her mind. Rachel Berry would be damned if she wasn't to going to do everything in her power to make that future happen.

After three days of an ungodly amount of unanswered texts and ignored phone calls, three bouquets of flowers, and even a singing Barbra telegram, Quinn still hadn't given Rachel a chance to explain or redeem herself. However, the fact that the hazel-eyed girl hadn't missed any of her shows, told Rachel there was hope.

Each night, the Broadway starlet would glance to the seat reserved for her better half, and each night, the blonde never disappointed. What Rachel was disappointed about was the fact that despite her three attempts to catch Quinn following the show, she failed at each one of them. Better measures would need to be taken.

On the fourth night, armed with what she hoped was a good plan, Rachel sought out those piercing eyes once more and in true form, found them in the fifth row back and to the left center of the main floor seating. Risking a break in character, the brunette offered a quick, affectionate smile to the striking woman who managed to break, melt, and mend her heart all at once. Quinn noticed the gesture and before she could stop it, she reflexively shot her a soft smile in return. It was out of character for Rachel Berry to be, well, out of character. Quinn shook off her mindless action, and turned her attention to the plot being carried out on stage. She may be upset with Rachel, but she couldn't deny that she loved her and would support her to a fault.

Rachel's performance that night was flawless, like all previous nights, but there was something special about this one for Quinn. Maybe it was the way the singer found Quinn's eyes during every song or perhaps it was the fact that Rachel's emotions saturated every line and lyric. Whatever it was, it was different than all of the rest.

When the final number played its last measure, Quinn stood to exit, expecting curtain call to cover her as she fled. If ever caught before that she would claim a stomach illness and blame its pain on the broken heart it was trying to swallow. Unfortunately for Quinn, the theater was silent. Curtain call should have been happening by now and instead, an empty stage attempted with no avail to dismiss the crowd.

That is, until she came out from behind the curtain. Quinn stopped mid aisle as she left her row of seating and locked eyes with the beautiful Broadway singer alone on stage. The blonde questioned the smaller girl with her eyes, but received no apology or explanation. Rachel broke away from the sight of her lover and addressed the crowd.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman! On behalf of the entire cast and crew, I'd like to extend a gracious 'thank you' to each and every one of you for attending tonight's performance. It's been made very clear to me that what I plan to do next is quite uncommon and that some of you might see it as unprofessional. However, my director has given me this opportunity to make something right, and I've found that I am more than willing to take that risk. You see, fine people, there's a girl… and she's standing in that aisle right there," Rachel pointed as she continued, "attempting to leave before I can get a chance to tell her I'm sorry for being an idiot and… that I love her." Rachel once again cast her eyes upon the shell-shocked hazel. "…More than anything."

Quinn gaped like a fish out of water. Rachel had just outed them to the entire audience, and now, it wasn't a question of when the headline would come out, but what the headline would read that worried the NYU honor student. She had no response other than a slightly ajar mouth and furrowed brow.

Rachel saw this as her opening. She walked cautiously to the edge of the stairs leading into the aisle where Quinn replicated a Greek statue. Upon reaching the girl, she gently lowered herself to one knee and from behind her waist, a blue box appeared on flat palm in front of her. Quinn thought she was going to hyperventilate. A rainbow of emotions etched across her face before settling on disbelief. She had been happy, then hurt, then sad, then angry, and now she was just plain shocked.

Noticing the increasingly awkward silence, Rachel began to speak again.

"Quinn," the starlet smiled wider than she'd let herself over the last three days, "I want you to know that you're the love of my life, and I am sincerely sorry for my lack of backbone three days ago. This little box, I've come to find, holds just one more meaning to a six-letter word. We've said this word to each other many times in many different ways in hopes of accomplishing many different things."

Rachel opened the box and there before the stunning blonde was a large, sparkling ring with a canary yellow hue that could be seen in highest of balcony seating. Quinn's mouth fell slack. She was really struggling to keep up with what was happening here.

"Tonight, I'm hoping when I say it the way I say it, it will mean that you will become my wife, my future…" Rachel met the blonde's eyes and smiled through her own. "_Please,_" she breathed out.

The beautiful statue snapped to life as she leaned down and captured her fiancée's lips in a passionate and hungry kiss. Having lost awareness of the audience still seated around them, they were broken from their spell by a deep and rousing round of applause. They glanced in all directions, blushing and smiling as they quickly made their way through the stage entrance at the right of the orchestra pit. Once safely out of public view, Rachel stopped abruptly and spun around causing the blonde to stumble into her.

"You never answered me."

"What?"

"Quinn, you never gave me an answer. You know how much I need verbal affirmation."

"I-I… really? You couldn't tell?"

"Well, I have an inkling of an idea, but to make it official…," Rachel knelt once more and lifted the ring from the velvet box, holding Quinn's left hand in her own. "Lucy Quinn Fabray, I meant what I said about loving you more than anything. You're my everything. The last three days have been agonizing and I don't know that I could take the hell of one more day. _Please_, say yes. Marry me, Quinn… _please_."

"Yes." Quinn smiled shyly, letting gentle tears roll down her face as she slipped the ring on her finger, simultaneously piecing her heart together again. In one swift movement, Rachel stood in front of her fiancée, and as her breath mingled with Quinn's and lips brushed lightly against one another's, she finally felt like she had everything she ever wanted, and surprisingly enough, it had nothing to do with the stage above her.

Rachel led Quinn back to her dressing room, and when the door closed behind them, they found one another, holding the other desperately. Their lips crashed together, moving evenly and with purpose against each other. The next hour held nothing but flushed lips, warm and sweet tongues, soothing touches, and delicious moans.

Later, as the two were leaving the theater's side exit, they filed out one-by-one as the Broadway diva held the door for the woman she loved. Quinn made her way through only to be met with a harsh and quite offensive flash of light against the night sky. Both women looked up to see a mob of paparazzi waiting like sharks in a feeding frenzy. The first flash seemed to have a rippling effect, inviting tens of others to become flash-happy. The taller woman didn't move as she looked to her fiancée for instruction.

Rachel's face drew a smile that screamed confidence and with her eyes made Quinn feel like she was the only girl in the world. She winked at the blonde, leaning in to whisper, "Mrs. Soon-to-Be-Berry-Fabray, would you do me the honor of holding my hand on our walk home this evening."

Quinn glanced nervously at the anxious reporters.

"Quinn, _please_…"

At that, Quinn took Rachel's waiting hand in her own, only to be surprised when Rachel threaded their fingers together.

This time, neither woman let go.

**So, there it is, friends. **_**Please**_**. A six-letter word. A word that cannot be bundled in short but sweet neat little packaged definitions. Instead, it's personal, finding its own meaning in every use of the word. Please, use it wisely.**

_A/N #3: So, review… "please?" _


End file.
